They finished their own labors late in the afternoon and contemplated the mast and sail with pride.

“Now that it’s done, I’m glad that it hez been done,” said Shif’less Sol.  “It’ll save me a lot o’ work hereafter.  It would be jest like you fellers to make me git callous spots all over the inside o’ my hands, when the hide on Jim Hart’s is already so thick it wouldn’t hurt him to do all his rowin’ an’ mine, too.”

“I jest love to see you work, Sol,” said Long Jim Hart.  “I can’t enjoy my rest real good, ‘less at the same time I’m layin’ on my back watchin’ you heavin’ away.”

Nevertheless, all took a long rest though maintaining a vigilant watch, and, with pleasure, they saw a dark night come on.  When the twilight was completely gone they steered once more for the main stream, not using their sail yet, because of the boughs and bushes.

“We’ve got to keep in the edge of the forest,” whispered Henry, and in that manner they crept cautiously southward.  After a while they stopped suddenly and all exclaimed together.  They distinctly heard the sound of rifle shots straight toward the south and perhaps a mile away.

“The savages hev attacked,” said Shif’less Sol in a whisper.  “Go it, Spaniard, go it, Injun, one may lick and tother may lick, but whether one may lick tother or tother lick which.  I don’t care.”

They pulled a little nearer to the last line of trees in the water and there off to the south they saw the little pinkish dots that marked the rifle and musket fire.  It was too far away for them to see anything else, but they heard distinctly the intermittent crackle of the shots.

“Neither will win,” said Henry.  “The Spaniards are too strong to be defeated, but they won’t venture the unknown terrors of the river at night.  The Indians, who are in their canoes, will draw off when they find they are not doing much harm.”

“Wish we could put up that sail,” said Shif’less Sol, who was still at the oars.  “I’m shore gittin’ a callous lump in the pa’m o’ my hand.”

“It wouldn’t do, Sol,” said Henry.  “We’re going to run past a battle, and we mean to lie as low as possible.”

Paul again steered, Henry sat, rifle in hand, and the others rowed.  They took a diagonal course across the stream once more, but this time toward the eastern shore.  They advanced slowly, hugging the dark.  Fortunately there was no moon and the dusk came close up to the boat.

“That’s a right noisy fight,” said Shif’less Sol, looking toward the south, where pink and red spots of flame still appeared in the dark and the rattling fire of rifle and musket grew louder.

“More noise than anything else,” said Tom Ross, “but it keeps ’em pow’ful busy an’ that’s a good thing fur us.”

They were now near the flooded forest on the eastern shore, and they moved slowly along in its shadow, still watching the distant battle.  It lightened a little, the rim of a moon came out, and they saw toward the western bank the dark silhouettes of canoes moving back and forth on the water.  Flashes came from the canoes and returning flashes came from the bank.